


Are you kitten me right meow?

by noheroesallowed



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, cats are stubborn as heck and this is proof, confused rookie get more and more worried each day that passes, kent is a cat lad, swoops does what he does best which is laughing at kent doing dumb shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 21:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12780324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noheroesallowed/pseuds/noheroesallowed
Summary: In which Kent lugs around mysterious objects in his training bag. Or y'know, is just your average cat owner.





	Are you kitten me right meow?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's been very long since I actually wrote something, but I saw [ this](http://paintmyspiritgold.tumblr.com/post/167268654413/skyline-sunset-in-my-veins-kent-parson-in-a-nut) and then this happened. Anyway, it's unbeta'd, sorry about that. If you'd like to beta my 'swawesome santa fic or ramble check please with me, please shoot me a message on my tumblr (it's the same as the picture I just linked to.)

Kent dropped his bag on the floor with a loud groan, rubbing his shoulder where the strap had dug into his skin. “I swear to god that thing gets heavier each week.”  
Swoops grinned at him from his seat. “Or you're just being a wuss and aren’t meeting your bench-pressing requirements, oh captain, my captain.”  
Kent scowled at him. “I’m not kidding, it’s like someone sewed weights into the bottom. Here, feel.” He lifted the bag up and dropped it in Swoops lap, earning a groan in return.  
“Oh damn, you weren't kidding. What are you lugging around? A slab of concrete, or what?”  
Kent shrugged. “No man, just the regular stuff.”  
Swoops bemusedly looked at him. “That can't be right. It’s really heavy? If you're just bringing your kit, then wh—” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, frowning deeply at the bag. “What the fuck.”  
“What?”  
“I dunno man, it kinda feels like there’s…”  
“Yes?” Kent pressed. “Kinda feels like what?”  
“Oh never mind. I thought something was moving. We’re good, though. I think.” Swoops picked up the bag and placed it on the ground.  
Kent snorted. “Maybe we should’ve kept you on the bench longer. That concussion really got to you, huh bud?”  
Swoops scowled and half-heartedly threw a pair of socks in his direction. “Har har. I’ve had plenty or rest, Parse. Better hurry up before the rookies start chirping you for being late.”

Kent grinned and unzipped his bag, ready to start changing into his training gear. He pulled out a stray shirt and immediately sighed loudly. “Not again,” he groaned, rubbing one hand over his face. “We’ve been over this.”  
“Yeah we’ve been over this, you bet your ass I’m playing that next game,” Swoops said, not facing Kent in favour of putting his phone away.  
“That’s not what I mean,” Kent groaned, unzipping his bag further and pulling out whatever made his bag so much heavier than usual.  
Swoops turned around and let out a shocked laugh, which soon turned into hysterical laughter. He stood in front of Kent, his arms crossed over his midriff as he desperately tried to catch his breath, attracting the attention of one of the rookies that hadn’t hit the ice yet.

“Hey, what’s going on he—oh my god, what the fuck,” Racer shrieked, nearly stumbling over his feet as he walked in. “What is that? It’s half as big as you are? What the—I mean what even is that supposed to be? A small bear? A bobcat, but like, weird and long and somehow smaller than you’d expect?!”  
“Racer! It’s a cat. Jesus man!” Kent exclaimed somewhere behind the massive amount of fur cradled in his arms.  
“How did you even miss her?!” Swoops wheezed. “She’s literally the size of your bag!”  
“She just crawls in there sometimes! I usually check, but— stop struggling woman! You did this to yourself,” Kent scolded the cat before adjusting his grip on her, causing her to meow dramatically. “I was in a hurry, so I just zipped the bag up and left.”  
“Why would she even sleep in there? Those bags smells,” Racer said, his nose wrinkled as if he just stuck it down Kent’s bag to factcheck.  
“She likes playing with rolls of tape and figured out that that’s where they come from.” Kent nuzzled his nose in her fur. “But she hides between all the stuff that’s in there, so you have to pull away everything to actually see her.”  
“But she’s so big, though. You’d think that’d be hard to miss… Does she bite?” Racer asked, cautiously approaching him.  
“Yes. She’s absolutely vicious,” he bit back sarcastically, turning on his feet to show Purrs’ lazily blinking eyes over his shoulder. “A true predator. Will kill children on sight.”  
“Nah, she only bites exposed ankles that don’t belong to Parse,” Swoops said, seemingly done laughing at Kent. “No kidding. One time I wore those really low socks, the ones you don't see in your sneaker? And she bit me four times. Four times! I think you can still see the teeth marks.” He took Purrs from Kent’s arms, nestling her close to his chest like she was a newborn baby. “Apart from that she’s pretty chill for a cat.”  
“It’s like she came straight from the 1800’s,” Racer said, finally close enough to be mindlessly scratching behind her ear.  
“What?” Swoops frowned.  
“Huh? Oh, you know. Ankles are scandalous! Hur dur!” he waved his arms around. “Must resist. What is this witchcraft, the works.”  
“Are you sure he’s not the one with the concussion?” Swoops turned to Kent.  
Kent snorted. “I’m starting to doubt that too.”  
“Did I hear a cat?” Tucker demanded, swinging his bag into a corner as soon as he practically ran into the dressing room. “I mean, I’m down for whatever this is, but the question is why.”  
“Mind yo’ business, David!” Swoops barked at him, curling his arms further around Purrs. “You didn’t hear shit.”  
“I know a cat when I hear one, _Jeffrey._ "  
“Yeah. Well. This is just a… a talking carpet.”  
“A talking carpet?”  
“A talking carpet.”  
“Of course your first instinct is to call her a talking carpet,” Kent muttered, prying Purrs away from Swoops’ arms. “She’s a better damn chirper than you are, and we both know it.”  
“Chirping at people she sees outside the window doesn’t count,” Swoops countered, tugging on the laces of his skates.  
“Isn’t that what you do in the sin bin, though?”  
“Shut up,” Swoops grumbled, stomping past Kent on his way to the ice.  
“Love you too!” Kent called after him with a wide grin. He frowned down at Purrs and sighed. “So, what am I supposed to do with you, huh? You can’t keep doing this, young lady.”  
She made a trill noise at him and blinked lazily.  
“That’s not very helpful.”  
She blinked again and kept purring happily in his arms.  
“C’mon, let’s get you up to the PR office, bet they will be happy to see you again,” he sighed, hoisting her further up his shoulder. “But man, you got to stop doing this.”

 

 


End file.
